Monday, March 15, 2010

30 and counting....on cooking for one.

I love cooking dinner more than just about anything.  Breakfast is fun - all that baking and egg cracking, lunch can be interesting - all those sandwiches, but dinner is my favorite.  Dinner is where I get things right.  Not my recipes, but my life.  Inevitably, there are things in my day that I can't control, can't change, can't get done before the clock runs out. Even if it is just for me, even if it doesn't turn out well, like tonight's improvised dijon-quinoa-spinach-mustard patties, I cook.  And it's all that I am, and all that I need, just to stand at my stove and salt and pepper and stir.  I stop replaying and rehashing.  I tune out the noise of my life and the only thing I think about is how my dish would be judged if I were to present it to the judges on Top Chef.  It is my best hour.  I may go to bed with a belly too full, but my mind is at ease, and the house smells like someone lives here.  Someone who likes to cook.

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